Halves
by FlowerChild22
Summary: "Finally," she thought to herself. "We've found our halves." Chloe lives in New York with her dad and thinks she's missing a piece of her. Zoe lives with her mum in Arizona and has always wanted to know her dad. A summer camp leads to Chloe and Zoe finding their other half and leading their parents to their own; each other. (Based off The Parent Trap.) HIATUS.
1. New York, 1998

**I probably shouldn't start a new story when I still have one that isn't finished, nor will be for a while now, but this was a cute idea I came up with yonks ago and felt like a fluffy Fax story.**

 **This is stolen off _Parent Trap_ \- it seems these days I can't commit to something that is originally mine, _sigh_ \- but I've structured it differently to keep the Fax in there. As a result, this will flip back and forth between present and past, just to keep that Fax in there.**

 **I hope you're all doing well and I'm sorry for being MIA. Being an adult is hard. And not fun at all.**

 **Disclaimer:** All characters, plots and familiar content are copyright of their respective owners and any reproduced content is only used for creative purposes.

* * *

 **New York, 1998**

Fang sighed as he yanked his tie down and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his dress shirt. Another day, another interview. And unfortunately, he didn't feel good about this one.

In fact, he didn't feel good about any of them. All twenty of them.

He had lost the enthusiasm and energy to care long ago, not that he was naturally an enthusiastic person in the first place, but there was some in the beginning. Back when he was a fresh graduate and was dreaming of being the owner of a multi-million dollar company (say, something like Google), or at least producing cool, trendy webpages in a cool, trendy underrated company (there weren't as many as he had imagined).

Now, he was just trying to find a job to replace the already shit job he had. Although he had hoped that his career as a barista would only be a college thing.

 _You've barely been out of college a year._

His mom's words echoed in his head, which the rational part of his brain couldn't deny.

 _Give it some time._

He shook his head and smiled faintly. How was it that his parents could be so optimistic, while he was so…not?

He tucked his coat around his torso tighter and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, trying to lock all of the cold wind out. He contemplated briefly of calling for a cab, but decided against it. Money was a little tight, plus he could do with the walk to clear his head. He had another job interview tomorrow.

So caught up in his thoughts—did he really want to work in social media?—that he didn't notice the mass of brown-blonde curls until he was knocked back with a mouth full of hair. He immediately opened his mouth and stepped away from the warm body currently cursing to herself.

"So many fucking people in this city," she muttered to herself. She dusted herself off before looking at him and giving him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, some jerk didn't move out of way and pushed me into you."

"I'm alright," he shrugged. He watched her as she picked her phone up from the ground and wiping it against her tan coat.

She was tall—not as tall as him—appeared lean and dressed in dark blue jeans, a long tan coat, black boots, and a bright red scarf wrapped around her neck. Her hair was wavy, appeared mostly brown, but there were blonde natural highlights throughout her hair, which suggested she wasn't originally from New York. Perhaps, west? Definitely somewhere sunny.

"It's unnecessarily cold here, isn't it?" She asked, unwrapping and rewrapping her scarf around her neck and face. She pocketed her phone and crossed her arms, tucking her hands under her arms.

Fang shrugged. "Sometimes."

She gave him an amused look. "Don't talk much do you?"

He shrugged again, which made her smile grow larger. "Not particularly."

She shuffled from one side to the other and Fang had the sudden urge to keep her there, to keep her talking to him.

"Not from here?" He asked.

She smiled again and shook her head.

"Nope," she answered, popping the 'p'. "I'm from the west. We barely have winter were I'm from. You've always been here?"

Fang nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm Max." She held out her hand.

Fang shook it slowly. Max suited her. "Fang."

"Fang?" She asked, almost laughing. "Now that's a story I have to hear."

 ***.*.*.*.***

Max closed her eyes blissfully and breathed in the hot steam of her coffee. Her hands were cupped around her mug, trying to steal as much heat, but at the same time wanting her coffee to last.

"So when do you hear back from them?" She asked, taking a small sip.

Fang leaned back against the cushioned booth. "Thursday."

"And how do you feel about it?" She asked.

Fang shrugged and she rolled her eyes. His lips quirked up briefly in an amused smile. She had been trying to get bigger responses from him, and she was successful for the most part. It was fun to spite her sometimes.

"Good," he answered slowly. And he really did. He and the interviewer got on really well the first round and the rest of the panel seemed to like him during his second round interviews.

Max gave him a warm smile. "So do I."

 ***.*.*.*.***

He ended up getting the job, and although it would be a while before they trusted him enough with more than just little maintenance jobs, he had a good feeling about it.

Two months after that—and eight months after they first met—they moved in together. It was fast, too fast (no one told them explicitly, but they could tell everyone was thinking it), but it felt right. Their relationship however, wasn't perfect.

They made each other crazy. They fought about everything and anything.

Yet, they were crazy about each other.

"You're so fucking frustrating!" Max yelled at him, throwing her hands up in the air.

"I'm the frustrating one?" Fang countered, pointing at his own chest.

"Yes!" She yelled back, pointing at him. "You! You are!"

Max spun on her heel and began to walk towards the front door, but Fang wasn't letting her have any of it. "Max, I get that your job can be frustrating at times, but that doesn't mean you have to take it out on me!"

Max growled, shaking her head furiously. She didn't respond but instead began to mutter under her breath. "Stupid, fucking, dick of a boyfriend—"

"I don't even know why you're even yelling at me," Fang continued, determined to make sure Max was hearing him. He stalked after her, each step sounding loud in their cosy apartment. "Your boss is a dick. I get it."

"—big-headed idiot, can't even cook—"

"Either can you!" Fang countered, but she wasn't acknowledging him.

As much as Max loved her job, being a reporter wasn't always all sunshines and rainbows. She was often stuck with the small, insignificant stories, despite being an outstanding writer in college and working there since her college days as an intern.

"—thinks he's always right—"

She was cut off when she was faced with their front door. She never had planned on walking out, but now she was stuck. She felt the heat of Fang's chest before she felt the press of his body against her own.

She gulped the tried to breathe regularly, and she no longer cared about whatever stupid thing they were fighting about. Fang always had a way of making her feel frustrated—in all senses of the word.

He turned her slowly, and she stepped back against the cool wood of their door, with him stepping with her.

She felt all of him now, and had only one thing on her mind. But by the look Fang was giving her, he was thinking the same thing.

He leaned forward, but she met him halfway in a collision of passion and frustration. It was full of teeth, tongue, and lips and his hands were everywhere, touching, stroking, and groping.

Her feet were starting to feel the strain of standing on her toes in an attempt to get closer to him, but he seemed to know her thoughts and grabbed the backs of both her thighs and hoisting her up, wrapping her legs around him and pressing her into the hard wood.

"God Max—" he breathed in between kisses, "—you make me crazy—frustra—frustrating—"

"You're the frustrating one," Max breathed out, leaning her hand back when his hips ground a little harder against hers.

She squeezed her thighs together and he responded by biting into her shoulder and gripping her butt cheeks harder.

"You're an idi—" Her words dissolved into a low guttural moan. Her thoughts were now a jumbled mess and the only think she could think was that she needed Fang, wanted him—and not only in this way.

The roughness of his jeans against her core was uncomfortable but she needed more, more friction.

"Fuck," he ground out, panting slightly. "I—I fucking love you, Max."

The words registered despite her sex-driven craze and lowered her lips to his ear. She licked her lips once, and he shivered when her tongue touched his earlobe.

"I fucking love you too," she whispered back.

They never made it to the bedroom.

 ***.*.*.*.***

They were engaged and married within four months.

It was a small ceremony—a total of six weddings guests, to be exact—and although the lead up was rushed, it was beautiful and both of their parents couldn't be anymore happier for the couple.

Fang was dressed in a simple tuxedo; the only white being his shirt and the delicate rose pinned to his lapel. His smile was wide and couldn't be wiped from his face.

Max was dressed in a simple ivory white dress; reaching mid-calf, loose and flared out from her waist. Her hands held a bouquet of the same white rose pinned on Fang's suit, and her hair was pulled up in a casual up-do, allowing for some strands to frame her face.

The ceremony was conducted on a Sunday spring afternoon, although it was slightly chilly, it didn't stop the happy couple from being married.

Their honeymoon was two weeks spent in the privacy of their cosy apartment.

 ***.*.*.*.***

Getting married at 21 may have been a hasty decision.

Having children at 21 was definitely a hasty decision.

These were Max's thoughts one year and one month after the birth of her precious twin girls; Chloe and Zoe. She loved Fang and she loved her girls, but they were barely in a stable enough situation to move in together at the time they did.

They fought a lot.

And this time it wasn't taking their frustrations out on each other, or small petty things. These were grown up fights.

And sometimes, you couldn't come back from grown up fights.

"What are you saying Max?" Fang asked her quietly. Thankfully the girls were sound asleep in their room.

Max sighed and didn't look at him. She couldn't face the intensity of his glare right now. "We barely have enough money for ourselves Fang. We were kids, we still are."

"I don't regret anything." His tone was harder this time, and Max was trying to stay strong.

"Either do I." She didn't. She needed him to know that. "I love you."

"But?" Fang asked. It was there, she didn't need to say it.

"But we've rushed into this and we have rent to pay, and we have to work, but we have to take care of the girls," she confessed. "And I have no fucking idea what I'm doing!"

"I don't either," he told her. She shook her head.

It was ending, right in front of them, but neither wanted to say it.

"So," Fang began. "This is it."

"This is it," Max repeated him softly.

 ***.*.*.*.***

The divorce was surprisingly a quick and easy process.

He got the apartment; she planned to move back with her mum in Arizona.

Their assets were split evenly, and both had enough money to last the next few months after selling a few of them.

He got Chloe.

She got Zoe.

She was gone in two weeks.

The only thing he ever regretted was never following her.

* * *

 **Read, review, and wait patiently,**

 **\- FlowerChild22**


	2. New York, 2015

**Disclaimer:** All characters, plots and familiar content are copyright of their respective owners and any reproduced content is only used for creative purposes.

* * *

 **New York, 2015**

Fang frowned at his daughter who was currently occupied by her cell phone. She was always occupied by her cell phone these days. He sighed, time had passed quickly and now he was stuck in this mundane daily cycle.

"Chloe," he called out from the kitchen. He set his briefcase onto the marble counter.

She didn't hear him, but flicked her long black hair over her shoulder. Headphones, of course.

"Chloe," he called louder.

She turned and yanked out a headphone. "Hmm?"

"Where's your aunt?" he asked, peeking into the fridge for something edible.

"She's still at work," she answered, wrapping her headphones around her phone now.

 _At least she had enough sense to have a conversation with him without one eye on him and the other on her screen_ , he thought to himself.

"Know what time she'll be home?" He asked.

Chloe shrugged. "Could not remember for the life of me."

"Takeout?" Fang asked. He yanked his tie loose and settled onto the couch next to his daughter, who immediately rested her head against his arm when he rested it along the back of the couch.

Chloe grinned. "Pizza?"

Fang smiled back. "Of course. Extra mushrooms?"

She nodded, "Of course!"

Fang's expression turned soft. "Just like your mom."

Chloe smiled softly at the mention of her mom. Her dad didn't talk about her much, but she loved when he'd mention something she would do that reminded him of her.

They ordered and settled back against the couch waiting for the delivery.

"Hey dad?" Chloe asked.

"Hmm?" He asked slightly distracted. He was thinking about Max.

"Do you remember that small dingy apartment we had when I was a kid? The one in Brooklyn?" She asked, smiling faintly.

Fang laughed a little. "Yeah I do. Great place wasn't it?"

"It kind of smelt funny," she laughed but nodded. "But yeah, I kinda miss it."

"Same," he agreed, kissing her temple.

 ***.*.*.*.***

 **Arizona, 2015**

"Oh no! No! No!" Zoe's uncle, Iggy, called out from their seats at the players. "What are you doing?"

Zoe laughed, zipping her large soda happily watching the game while her uncle stuffed chicken nuggets into his mouth.

It was their weekly baseball game and while the Arizona Diamondbacks weren't doing as well as her Uncle Iggy would like them to, she enjoyed every game since the age of three.

Plus, she wanted to make the most of it because, in a month, she would be attending a summer camp for two months. Character building, her mom had called it.

"So Zo," Iggy began sitting back to concentrate on his favourite niece, "Are you excited for camp?"

Zoe shrugged—Iggy could help but be reminded of Fang every time she did so—and munched on her hotdog before answering. "I guess. Mom said it would be good."

Iggy nudged her with his shoulder and gave her a grin. "And I guess it wouldn't hurt for you to be a little more social."

Zoe rolled her eyes. She wasn't bothered by the comment; her mom and her uncle were social and outgoing, but she was happy to be the quiet reflective one. Sometimes she joked that she was the only one in their family who had a steady head on her shoulders, but most times she was just glad to be compared to her dad—a man she never met, but hope one day she would.

"Like dad, right?" She asked.

Iggy smiled and nodded. "Exactly like him."

He braced himself for more questions about the man but Zoe for once, was happy to sit back and watch the rest of the game. Iggy took some time to think about eighteen years ago, when he and Max were living in New York trying to make it big—her, a big hotshot editor, and he a musician.

He chuckled to himself thinking about the days when he and his band managed to score some underground gig once a month.

He watched Zoe from the corner of his eye; although she initially appears to be her mom's replica, it was only her eyes and hair as the main resemblance. She had Fang's face, from the pointed nose and high angular cheekbones. His thoughts then wondered to her twin sister, what she was doing and what she looked like now.

He made a mental note to look Fang up later and perhaps visit one day.

 ***.*.*.*.***

 **New York**

"Chloe," Fang began, watching his daughter mindlessly click through the endless number of television shows. How can she possibly not find something to watch with so many channels?

He shared a look with Nudge; his long-time friend who had stuck around and helped him raise Chloe. He didn't know what he would have done if she hadn't.

 _Kids_ , Fang snorted to himself.

"Yeah, dad?" She called back, not bothering to look away from the TV.

"Don't you think you could do something more productive with your summer?" He asked grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. "You can't possibly watch TV for three months."

Chloe smirked to herself. "Is that a challenge? Because I think I could."

Nudge laughed to herself; Chloe had a mouth on her, and sometimes her dad could be at a loss with what to do with her.

Fang rolled his eyes and wiped the apple on his shirt. "Seriously Chloe."

She sighed and spun herself around to face her dad. He immediately threw an apple to her when she raised her hand. "What do you have me do?"

Fang shrugged. "Get a job?"

Chloe laughed loudly and threw her head back. "You're funny dad."

"I wasn't joking," he muttered to himself, biting into the apple.

Nudge cackled from the kitchen. "Chloe, working? She's a smart girl, who works hard, but barely lifts a finger. She doesn't even do her chores!"

Chloe stuck her tongue out at her aunt. Nudge returned it.

Fang walked over to his daughter, who moved to take a seat by the dining table. He slapped a glossy brochure in front of her.

She froze, apple halfway to her gaping mouth. "Camp Eden? What am I? Twelve?"

"It's a camp for twelve to sixteen year old girls. You make friends and do fun things," Fang explained.

"Camp?" Chloe asked again, scrunching up her nose. "Do you see me sleeping in a tent in the middle of the woods? The closest thing to the woods I've been to is Central Park! Where would I plug my hairdryer?"

Fang rolled his eyes and made a face at Nudge, who grinned and shrugged. "You sleep in cabins, and there is electricity."

Chloe picked up the brochure and unfolded it, reading aloud. "Camp Eden is a camp for twelve to sixteen year old girls—"

She stopped and gave her dad a look. "Did you memorise this or something?"

Fang shrugged and she kept reading.

"—situated in Golden, Colorado—" She stopped herself.

"Colorado, huh?" Chloe asked thoughtfully. "I've never been there."

"It's beautiful," Nudge piped up. "It might be good to get in touch with nature."

Fang snorted. "Says the fashion editor who would die without her straightener."

Nudge smacked his arm. "I'm trying to help you."

"—including: rock climbing, various sports, vertical obstacle courses, abseiling—"

Chloe put down the brochure. "I guess it would be alright. And it is better than getting a job. Fine, I'll go. Get 'in touch with nature'."

Fang smiled and kissed the top of her head. "That's my girl."

* * *

 **Read, review, and much love,**

 **\- FlowerChild22**


	3. Christmas, 1998

**Merry Christmas guys! Or Merry Christmas for tomorrow for you who ain't from the southern hemisphere. Here's your gift: Fax! Yay for Fax!**

 **Enjoy :) xx**

 **Disclaimer:** All characters, plots and familiar content are copyright of their respective owners and any reproduced content is only used for creative purposes.

* * *

 **New York, 1998**

"So I have this Christmas work party, and I'm allowed to bring one person..." Max awkwardly trailed off unsure how to finish off her question. She didn't want to seem like she was asking Fang out, but at the same time he was the only person she could think of that wasn't her brother Iggy who she'd spend a whole night with at her boring work party. Plus, she was trying to avoid Dylan from her work who had made it his mission to ask her out.

Fang smirked and Max nearly groaned. "You're not asking me out, are you?"

Max threw her hands out in front of her quickly, and nearly knocked her glass of iced chocolate over. "No! Just as friends."

Fang ignored the pang of disappointment he felt and kept the smirk on his face. "Right."

"Just friends," Max stressed, though she didn't know who she was trying to convince. "There's this guy Dylan and he's so annoying and clingy—"

Fang's smirk turned into a shit eating grin. "And you want me to pose as your...boyfriend?"

"No. Yes. Well, kind of?" Max asked. She sighed and was unable to look Fang in the eye. _God this is embarrassing_ , she thought to herself. "I just need you to save me from the people I work with."

Fang sighed, pretending to be annoyed. "Fine, I guess I can clear my schedule for this party."

Max glared at him and kicked him under the table. "You suck."

"I can change my mind anytime, you know," Fang reminded her, causing Max to groan loudly.

 ***.*.*.*.***

Fang whistled slowly, partly because he knew Max felt uncomfortable in such a feminine dress, and partly because...well, she was hot. "Festive."

Fang let his eyes travel up and down Max's figure, while she cursed to herself and tried to stuff her feet into a pair of heels. Her dress was figure-hugging and a deep green that suited her brown-blonde hair and showed a cheeky amount of cleavage.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to impress someone," Fang commented, grinning when Max gave him the finger. "It couldn't be...no, not me?"

"Shut up," Max growled. "Your wonderful friend Nudge was nice enough to take me shopping and act as my personal stylist."

Fang immediately translated that to: "Your friend Nudge dragged me by force to the shops and forced me to try on dresses until she was happy."

 _Bless Nudge_ , Fang thought to himself.

"You know," Max started, pausing to look Fang in the eye, "I really miss when you barely talked."

Fang smirked at her as he felt his phone buzz in the pocket of his black dress pants twice in succession. One text from Iggy and one from Nudge.

He opened Nudge's first: _How do you like the dress? Was thinking of you when picking out her dress. Wait...that sounds kinda gross. You know what I mean. Make sure you finally make a move on her tonight or else my efforts are for nothing. Love ya xx._

Fang rolled his eyes and opened Iggy's next: _Are you gonna kiss her tonight or wuss out? But no details, cause I'm bro and that's gross._

He decided to ignore both texts. His friends really sucked sometimes.

"Are we ready to go?" Max asked him, "I think the taxi is waiting outside."

Fang nodded and followed her out the door.

 ***.*.*.*.***

Max's Christmas party was held in a loud bar that made it very hard to have conversations. That was a plus because then Max pretended to not near Dylan, but was also bad because Dylan wanted to dance with her. He didn't seem to take Fang's presence as something to discourage him.

"Wow," Fang commented, taking a large gulp of beer. He had been taking advantage of the bar tab all night and was quickly feeling the effects of drinking so much so quickly. "He's persistent."

Max downed the rest of her beer and then ordered a scotch. "I need something stronger for this."

Fang chuckled and watched amused as Max downed that too. "Easy there."

Max narrowed her eyes. "You can't fool me, I know you're just as drunk."

Fang shrugged and finished his beer. His gaze slid over Max's shoulder and leaned towards her. Max felt her heart speed up as Fang stood much closer than he probably realised. His breath was warm against her ear.

"Your lover is on the move," he told her in a low voice.

"Dance with me," Max asked, trying to think of an escape route.

Fang snorted. "Fuck no, I don't dance."

Max tried to give him a pleading look. Fang just shook his head and tried not to laugh. "Sorry Max, that works on Nudge but you're Max. You don't do doe eyes well."

"Fuck you," Max grumbled.

"No," Fang told her, unable to help himself. "I think that's Dylan's job. At least he wishes."

Max glared at him. She grabbed his arm and yanked him towards the dance floor. "Just for that, you have to dance."

Fang stumbled to steady himself and crossed his arms. He raised his voice to be heard over the music, "Nope. I don't dance."

Max put her hands on her hips and glared at him. If doe eyes wouldn't work, then maybe she could bully him into dancing. "You just look stupid now."

He shrugged. "Not as stupid as I would if I was dancing."

She huffed. "You suck, you know that?"

Fang smirked. "As you remind me constantly."

Max tilted her head as she thought to herself. She braced herself for her next move, she'd either be successful or look completely stupid. She stepped towards Fang, trying to give him a coy look, her hands moving towards his hips.

Fang was suddenly unsure. He unconsciously took a step back. "Max, what are you doing?"

Max shrugged and slipped her fingers into his belt hoops. "Come on Fang, it's Christmas. Have fun, get loose."

Fang really tried to laugh at her and make fun of her terrible attempt to flirt with him. Except it wasn't terrible. And it was working. He gulped.

"Max," he tried. It only encouraged her to pull him closer to her. "Dylan is gone now, no need for this."

Max ignored the voice that was telling her that she was embarrassing herself and that this was _Fang_ , her best friend. She had a sneaking suspicion that the alcohol was giving her this confidence.

Fang uncrossed his arms and they acted by their own accord when they moved to wrap around her and rest low on her back.

Max smiled slowly and started to swivel her hips in time to the music. Fang could no longer talk and followed her movements.

"See, not so hard," she told him in his ear.

They continued until they were pressed hotly against each other and Max leaned up to breath into Fang's ear, "Let's get a taxi."

 ***.*.*.*.***

Max groaned as she slowly turned onto her back and clutched her forehead. "Ow, sunlight."

"Ow, my head," Fang countered, his voice gravely with sleep and drinking what felt like half the bar last night.

They laid silently both facing the ceiling, Fang trying to pillow his head in his hands, while Max threw an arm over her eyes. Slowly last night came back to them as they both tried to gather their bearings.

"So," Max started, unsure of what to say next.

"So," Fang repeated, not able to function with a hangover and no coffee. "Coffee."

"Mmm," Max agreed, but made no move to get out of bed.

They were silent again, just content with lying in Max's bed and trying to ebb the pain in their heads and bodies.

"So you were trying to impress me after all," Fang said through a wide smile.

Max growled. "Fuck you."

"You already did," Fang smirked.

* * *

 **Read, review, and I really want a coffee now,**

 **\- FlowerChild22**


	4. Departures, 2015

**Happy new year lovelies! Here's a gift for the new year and my 21st birthday that is creeping up way too quickly! Why am I so old? Where did the time go?**

 **Enjoy :)**

 **Disclaimer:** All characters, plots and familiar content are copyright of their respective owners and any reproduced content is only used for creative purposes.

* * *

 **Arizona, 2015**

"Urgh, twelve hours," Zoe complained from her spot on the bed. She fell back and groaned. "And in this Arizona heat."

Max continued folding various shirts and denim shorts into a duffle bag. "That's not too bad."

"It is," Zoe moaned. She closed her eyes trying to focus on the cool breeze of the air conditioner.

Max didn't answer and instead, proceeded to check items in the bag against a written list.

Zoe spied her mom and laughed. "Relax mom."

Max gave her daughter a smile. "I'm just making sure you're prepared."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Zoe waved off her mom. "Always be prepared."

Max rolled her eyes and continued to help her daughter pack. And by help, she did everything herself.

"Twelve hours isn't bad," Iggy commented from his spot on the bed, where Max noted he wasn't being helpful at all. "We'll make it fun with good music and car games."

Zoe grinned at her uncle. "Yeah mom's CDs are a drag."

"Excuse me," Max glared at the two of them. "They're classic."

"They're old," Zoe countered. "And angsty."

Iggy nodded at his niece. "See if your sixteen year old daughter says they're too angsty, then there's something wrong."

Max rolled her eyes and continued to fold.

 ***.*.*.*.***

 **New York, 2015**

Fang eyed the denim skirt Chloe was folding up and placing in her bag. He was glad that she had agreed to a girls only camp.

"Are you sure that's...appropriate?" Fang asked his daughter. "Won't there be sport?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Obviously I won't wear it when I'm rock climbing or anything dad. It'll be for the chill days. Just because it's a camp in the woods doesn't mean I'm going to sacrifice style."

Fang turned to the woman helping Chloe fold the rest of her clothing. He thankfully saw practical clothing in that pile. "You'd think she was your daughter, not mine."

Nudge laughed. "Yeah well, you're hopeless."

Chloe laughed as her dad pretended to be offended. "Hey!"

"Are you coming to the airport Aunt Nudge?" Chloe asked while she wrapped the cord around her hair straightener.

Nudge have her niece a wide smile. "Of course I am honey. Wouldn't miss it."

Fang sat himself on the edge of the bed and helped Nudge with folding. She watched him struggle to fold a t-shirt neatly before huffing and grabbing it off him. "Gimme that, you'll crease everything."

Fang held his hands up. "Sorry for helping."

"Just sit there and check that list," Nudge held out a sheet to him.

 ***.*.*.*.***

 **Arizona**

"Of course it's 106 degrees today," Zoe complained from the passenger seat. Iggy was nice enough to let her ride shotgun.

Max laughed. "You'd think growing up here would make you immune to the heat."

"This is just ridiculous," Zoe huffed, fidgeting in her seat. She fed a CD into her mum's Jeep and fiddled with the AC system until she felt a semi-cool breeze hit her face.

"Time to get this show on the road," Max called out to Iggy who was making sure all Zoe's bags were secured in the back and not obscuring Max's view.

"Rodger that!" Iggy called back and climbed into the back seat. Despite his long frame, he chose to sit in the middle seat. "What's playing, Zo?"

"Queen's greatest hits," Zoe told him, kicking off her shoes and trying to cool her feet with the now cool breeze radiating from the car.

"And you said my music was old," Max grumbled.

Zoe shrugged, and Max was hit with how alike she was with her dad, "Okay fine. It's just angsty."

Max smiled. "I lived in New York in the nineties when I was in my twenties. You know that your Uncle Iggy used to be in a band?"

Zoe whipped her head at her mom. "Really?"

"Yeah, we had moved to New York when I'd finished college so I could find a job as a journalists, while Iggy was the bassist of a grunge band, Hard Copy."

Zoe chuckled. "Hard Copy? Really?"

Iggy shrugged, "Hey! One of our band member's was working at a IT company at the time."

 ***.*.*.*.***

 **New York**

Chloe aimlessly flicked through her TV but it was still six in the morning so there wasn't really much going on. She continued to stuff her mouth of the sugary cereal she tried indulge in only occasionally.

Her dad settled in beside her and watched the morning show. They both hated these shows.

"Ready?" He asked her, while they focused on the main male host try to cut tomatoes for an omelette.

Chloe munched on her cereal and shrugged. "Yeah, a little worried everyone's gonna be younger than me. Or they're socially weird freaks who don't know who Pierre Balmain is."

"I don't know who that is," Fang responded.

Chloe scrunched her face up. "Dad, no offence, but you're socially weird."

Fang was about to open his mouth when Nudge interrupted him. "She's not wrong."

He pinched his daughter who just laughed. "Finish up your nutritious breakfast and we'll leave for the airport."

Chloe just smiled at him.

 ***.*.*.*.***

 **Golden, Colorado**

"Why do you listen to those CDs so much?" Zoe asked her mom quietly. Iggy was sound asleep in the back, but was quite the snorer.

Her mum shrugged. "Call me nostalgic. They remind me of New York."

Zoe watched as her mom stared ahead thinking hard. She decided not to bother her thoughts.

It was a long drive, which Zoe was able to sleep for most of the journey, while her mom and uncle swapped every two hours. Once they managed to find a park within the rows of cars parked, where there parents and siblings hugging their daughters and sisters tightly, the three jumped out and took in the camp.

"What do you think?" Max asked her daughter.

She shrugged. "It's okay I guess."

"I'm sure it'll be great, kiddo," Iggy assured her, wrapping his arm quickly around her shoulders in a brief hug. "I'll go unload the car."

Max turned to Zoe, a small smile on her face. She wrapped her arms around her and kissed her forehead, not needing to bend down as much as she used to. She felt a small pang of pain when she thought about the other daughter she'd never gotten to watch grow up.

"Have fun Zo, and stay safe," she told her, pulling back and tucking her hair behind her ears. Zoe looked older now; she had cut her hair a few days ago to her shoulders so she no longer had to fuss with it.

"Thanks mom," Zoe told her, giving her a small smile.

"Okay, let's break up this love fest," Iggy announced, stepping in to take his turn to hug his niece. "Have fun Zo, and be sure to cause some mischief, alright?"

Max shook her head and playfully pulled Zoe away from Iggy. "No, don't listen to your uncle."

Zoe chuckled to herself when Iggy winked at her behind her mom's back.

"Well," Max sighed, finally stepping away from Zoe, "We should head off. Did you need any help with your bags?"

Zoe eyed the one duffle bag she brought and raised an eyebrow. "I think I'm good."

Max rolled her eyes and backed towards the drivers seat. "Smart mouth. I'll call in a few, love you!"

Zoe waved as her mom and uncle hopped into their car and pulled out. She mouthed a 'love you' back at her mom and uncle.

 ***.*.*.*.***

 **New York**

Nudge immediately pulled Chloe in for a hug. "I'm going to miss you so much! What am I going to do with you gone?"

Fang rolled his eyes and watched the two in amusement. "Nudge, you're taking the plane with her. No need for the dramatics."

Nudge poked her tongue out at Fang and let go of Chloe. Fang stepped up to his daughter and pulled her in for a hug. He kissed the top of her head. "Have fun Clo, and stay out of trouble."

Chloe pressed a hand to her chest. "Trouble? Moi? Never!"

She laughed while Fang chuckled to himself. "Text me once you arrive."

Chloe nodded. "Sure thing dad. I'll even send you some pictures, though I don't have high hopes with my living conditions."

She grinned at her dad while he looked at her with a stoic expression.

"I'm kidding," she assured him. "Sort of."

"We should probably get to the gates now," Nudge told them through sniffs.

Father and daughter shared a look. Fang gave Chloe one more hug before handing her a designer duffle bag. Fang wondered when her daughter became interested in fashion. _Oh right, Nudge_ , he thought to himself.

He gave Nudge a quick hug, and soon the two women in his life were headed towards the gates.

Fang smiled as Chloe turned once more to give him one more hug.

* * *

 **Read, review, and recycle,**

 **\- FlowerChild22**


	5. Fights, 1998

**Although so far these Fax memories are in order, they may not be in the future.**

 **Disclaimer:** All characters, plots and familiar content are copyright of their respective owners and any reproduced content is only used for creative purposes.

* * *

 **New York, 1998**

Max treated this situation with Fang like she did with those involving feelings. She swept it under the rug.

Fang had no problem with doing so because they were friends. Good friends. Best friends.

This suited both fine until Max saw Fang with that blonde girl, Bridget.

Bridget was smart, attractive, and worst of all, quickly capturing Fang's attention. Their usual daily coffee became weekly coffee. And then, whenever I see you next coffee.

"So you're jealous," Nudge commented nonchalantly. She focused on dipping her cinnamon doughnut into her mocha.

Max made an offended noise. "No. I just would like to see my best friend more if that isn't so much to ask."

Nudge paused in lifting her cup and raised an eyebrow at Max. She said nothing, which was a feat in itself.

Max grumbled and picked up her latte. "I'm not."

"If you say so," Nudge replied, sipping her coffee contently.

Max shook her head. "I'm not," she repeated, lowering her glass to her saucer too quickly, causing them to clash loudly.

Nudge said nothing, but Max was too occupied in her irritation to notice.

"God, she's so annoying," she continued, ripping into her chocolate croissant. "She laughs at everything he says-he's not even that funny. And touches him so much, which is so desperate and embarrassing for her. And her dumb glasses, which are totally fake. She's so fake."

Nudge kept her laughter to herself and cleared at her throat. "Do you hear yourself?"

Max slumped back in her chair and eyed what remained of her croissant. She ground her teeth together before meeting Nudge's knowing look. "Okay."

"Okay," Nudge repeated.

Max gave her a look. "Fine. Maybe I'm jealous. That doesn't mean I love him or anything."

Nudge's look told her otherwise.

 ***.*.*.*.***

Her laugh was light and bubbly and Max wasn't entirely convinced that it was her real laugh. Fang wasn't _that_ funny.

Max tried to ignore that she was grinding her teeth and her eyes were starting to narrow at the blonde woman and that her arms immediately crossed themselves across her chest.

She also tried to ignore the fact that she spent at least ten minutes more than usual this morning to get ready and wore those black dress pants Nudge bought for her and claimed that her ass would look _phenomenal_ and wore a blouse she tended to avoid because it "accentuated" her chest (at least Nudge claimed so).

She forced her expression to brighten once she reached Fang, though it brightened of its own accord when she saw that Fang straightened slightly and the corner of his lips did that little twitch.

"Max," he nodded at her. _Because Fang was too cool for any other normal greeting_ , Max thought to herself. She almost rolled her eyes but replied with a "hey" and then shifted her gaze to the blonde currently touching his arm.

"This is Brigid," Fang introduced. "She started just a few weeks ago. And this is Max."

Brigid gave her a once over and Max was close to rolling her eyes again but instead forced a polite smile.

"Wonderful to meet you," Brigid told her in an over exaggerated tone that hinted that it wasn't wonderful at all.

"Pleasure," Max replied curtly. She wasn't even going to bother with her, she knew exactly what kind of person Brigid was.

She turned to Fang. "Ready for lunch?"

Fang nodded and grabbed his bag and gave Brigid a quick reply, "See ya later."

"Oh," Brigid replied. "See you."

Max could tell she was hoping to be invited to lunch but was pleased when Fang started walking away with her, not even paying a second glance at the beautiful woman.

Max forced the triumphant smile off her face and looked ahead as she left the building. Though she was really tempted to look back over her shoulder.

 ***.*.*.*.***

"So now that we've established you're in love with Fang," Nudge began.

"I am _not_ in love with Fang," Max snapped.

Nudge rolled her eyes and corrected herself, "Okay fine. Now that we've established you've got a thing for him to an _extent_ , what are you going to do?"

Max fell back onto her bed. "Nothing."

"Nothing," Nudge repeated.

"Yep," Max replied popping her 'p'.

Nudge rolled her eyes, a motion she found herself continuously doing around Max. Especially she kept up this denial.

It had been a week since Max confessed (read: repressed) her feelings for Fang and Nudge was determined to put both Max and Fang out of their misery. Fang always was holding out for Max. Max was too stubborn for her own good.

As a result, Nudge was forcing both of them to attend one of her fashion 'mingle' events. She was still new to the business and so every network opportunity counted.

Plus, Max could write a piece for her paper and Fang could meet potential customers. It was a win-win-win. Career opportunities and a chance of love. Nudge almost sighed happily at the notion. She was too much of a romantic.

"Nudge, stop planning our wedding," Max told her.

Nudge pointed her nose in the air and refused to meet Max's eyes. "I was _not_ planning your wedding."

"Mm hmm," Max replied, clear disbelief in her tone.

 ***.*.*.*.***

Somehow, Brigid was conveniently on her way back from lunch when Fang and Max made their way back to his building. Max wouldn't have been surprised if Brigid had waited around the corner until he arrived back. She almost snorted.

"Oh hey Fang, what a coincidence!" Brigid ( _pretended_ , Max thought to herself) to exclaim.

Fang nodded at her. "Hey."

"Back to work," she rolled her eyes, but gave him a pretty smile.

Fang just nodded at her again, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Well," Max began, turning towards Fang. She barely gave herself enough time to think through her next action when she was suddenly leaning up and pecked Fang on the lips. "Better let you get back to work. See you tomorrow."

She spun quickly and walked as fast as she could without running in a panic towards the rotating doors. _Oh God_ , she thought to herself.

Fang cleared his throat after watching Max make her hasty exit and jerked head towards the elevators. "Back to work."

Brigid narrowed her eyes at the tall woman rushing away from them.

 ***.*.*.*.***

"Max," Fang took a seat opposite her at their usual coffee hangout. "We should talk."

He was surprised that she even showed up to their lunch, after how weird she acted the previous day. She had been ignoring his texts and calls too. _She's too fucking stubborn for her own good_ , he thought to himself with slight annoyance.

"I rather we didn't," Max replied, not bothering to look up from her paperwork.

Fang just stared at her, unimpressed with her nonchalance. Typical Max to avoid things.

She continued to ignore him, still reading through the documents she had placed in front of her, slipping her coffee every now and again.

Fang set his jaw. "Max."

He wasn't going to let her ignore the current weirdness between them.

She huffed and dropped her papers. "What Fang? What do you want to talk about?"

He gave her a deadpanned look. "I think you know exactly what."

Max immediately felt irritated. Why did Fang always have to bring these things up? Why couldn't they have chalked it up to one drunken night and move on?

"It was just a drunken night," she told him, trying to keep her anger in check. Logically, she knew she was angry for no reason, but she couldn't help the clench in her fists.

"Just that," Fang repeated.

"Yes," Max spat out, starting to shuffle her sheets into a folder, trying to maintain her cool.

"So, nothing?" Fang asked, starting to feel angry himself.

"What do you want me to say Fang?" Max hissed at him, trying not to draw attention to themselves.

Fang didn't answer her, but Max was ignoring him anyway.

"That what? We're soulmates? That was should get married, have kids?" Max stuffed her folder into her bag, refusing to meet Fang's eyes. "I'm _not_ that girl Fang. I'm not going to throw myself at your feet and marry you and have that white picket fence house and three kids."

Fang tried to stay stoic, he really did. But it hurt, Max's words hurt. And it wasn't until he heard her hard, bitter words, that he realised that she was someone he wanted wake up next to.

"Good to know," he ground out. He felt his jaw lock and his arms crossed across his broad chest and felt the anger build up in his shoulders and arms.

"Good," Max responded, not giving him another look and spun on her heel.

* * *

 **Oh Max.**

 **Read, review, and**

 **\- FlowerChild22**


	6. Cabins, 2015

**Disclaimer:** All characters, plots, and familiar content are copyright of their respective owners and any reproduced content is only used for creative purposes.

* * *

 **Colorado, 2015**

Chloe frowned at her left pinky. She'd only been on the campsite grounds for twenty minutes and she had already broken a nail. All because her stupid bedside table drawer was jammed shut.

"Stupid old furniture," she muttered to herself. "Bet they haven't updated this furniture since the eighties."

She took a minute to take in the woody cabin that would be her home for the next two months. Her face scrunched up with despair. It wasn't bad. but it wasn't. . .good. The cabin smelt of wood, slightly sharp but dull at the same time due to the old age of the building. There were three other single beds, which hadn't been occupied yet. She picked a bed against the back wall, away from the entrance. She had already made her bed and put away most of her belongings and slid her suitcase under her bed.

She hoped that she would be allowed a few more moments before her roommates entered, but that thought was quickly pushed aside when two girls entered and greeted her with a smile.

"Um, hi," one of the girls greeted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously.

Chloe took a breath and put on her friendliest smile. "Hey, I'm Chloe. I hope you guys don't mind me taking this bed."

"No that's fine," the first girl answered back quietly. "I'm Jasmine."

Chloe smiled at her genuinely—Jasmine seemed sweet and shy and Chloe wanted to take her under her wing.

Chloe and Jasmine turned at the sound of a loud huffing, and watched as the second girl lifted her duffle bag onto her bed. She wiped a hand over forehead and took a deep breath.

"What a workout!" She spun on her heel and faced Chloe. "I'm Elizabeth, but please call me Liz. My parents are politicians and aren't that creative clearly."

Chloe grinned at her and took a moment to study both girls. They were both quite different from her friends back in New York—where fashion was a massive influence—but they seemed nice enough.

Jasmine was dressed in a pair of running shorts and a shirt that had a high school track team emblem and an old pair of converse. Her brown hair was thrown into a careless ponytail. _Clearly athletic_ , Chloe thought to herself.

Elizabeth, or Liz as she preferred, was a little more stylish, with a pair of white shorts, a plain grey shirt tucked in and her feet in white vans. Her hair was wavy and blonde, and it was _reminiscent of The_ _Hamptons_ , Chloe thought, which probably was the influence of having politician parents.

Chloe was suddenly aware of her own appearance, which probably was less practical than what was required at a summer camp. She was in a white midi skirt and a loose striped cami and had her oversized sunglasses and hat on her bed next to where she was seated. At least her footwear were practical, a pair of white sneakers. In New York terms she was casual, in summer girls camp terms, she must've looked overdressed. She was Chloe, and maybe she had a little more concern over her appearance than other girls, but she was a New Yorker and she wasn't going to apologise for it.

"Where are you guys from?" Chloe asked, looking at both girls.

Jasmine met her eyes briefly before staring back down at her hands. "I'm from Iowa."

"Washington D.C.," Liz replied with a posh accent, placing her hand on her heart. She dropped it and gave Chloe a wry grin. "If it wasn't clear before. It was either summer camp or a politics internship. Love that my parents are politicians, but I have to have options right?"

Chloe laughed lightly. "I hear you. Dad told me camp or a job."

Liz made a face at that while Jasmine laughed quietly. Liz threw herself onto her bed and huffed. "Parents, am I right? So do we actually need to do any 'team activities' tonight, cause I am ready for a nap!"

A loud cough interrupted their conversation— _rudely,_ Chloe thought to herself—and three heads turned to face a blonde whose hair was much too voluminous and tightly curled to be considered casual or natural. In fact, it looked like she had come fresh from the salon. Big round sunglasses were perched on a perfect nose and the logo of _Versace_ could be seen by all three girls. She was stick thin, unnaturally so, and Chloe's eyebrow rose slightly as she took in the wedged sandals, ripped denim shorts, and cropped shirt. Her shoulders provided a little modesty in the way of a floral kimono, but she looked like she had just come from a photoshoot.

While Chloe's New York style was understated and casual, it was clear to her that their new roommate was from L.A.

It was quiet for a few moments, while the three girls waited for the new girl to speak, each with their own reactions—Chloe tried to stop her eyes from rolling; Jasmine watched on in trepidation; Liz had her arms crossed and an unimpressed look.

The new girl slowly pushed her glasses onto her head and eyed each of the girls one at a time, taking everything in. Chloe supposed the dramatics were on purpose to make an impact.

"I'm Isabelle," she stated, she pouted at the last single bed left over in distaste. "This thing looks like a pig sty compared to my king size back in Beverly Hills."

Chloe held back a snort. _Beverly Hills_ , she thought, _of course_.

She guessed that she had protein mixes packed in her luggage and her tan wasn't _au naturale_ but probably originated from a spray can.

Isabelle rolled her luggage towards her corner of the room and proceeded to rummage through her handbag ( _Gucci_ of course). She found a can and started spraying herself and her area of the room. "Where are you guys from?"

Liz stared at her disbelievingly. "You should really open some windows of you're going to spray whatever that is around. Someone could have asthma."

Isabelle blinked at her and Liz rolled her eyes and stood up to start opening their windows. "I'm Liz by the way, Washington D.C."

Isabelle wasn't that pleased with her answer. Chloe supposed that Washington wasn't fabulous enough. Isabelle turned her head to Jasmine, who had been quiet until now.

Jasmine shifted uncomfortably. "Jasmine, I'm from Iowa."

"That's so cute," Isabelle cooed, but there was a tone of condescension.

Chloe decided that she didn't really like this Isabelle's attitude. "I'm Chloe," she told her, putting on her snobbiest voice, a big difference to her friendly greeting to the others. "I'm from New York."

Isabelle perked up at that and Chloe immediately knew where this was headed. She faced many girls who used her as a friend thanks to her connection to the fashion world via her Aunt Nudge.

"Oh I _love_ New York," Isabelle gushed.

Chloe gave her a smile, but it didn't meet her eyes.

 ***.*.*.*.***

Zoe heard voices as she slowly made her way up the steps to her cabin: Nànan.

"I swear I put it down by the window," a girl assured the rest of the room. She sounded she was from Louisiana, her twang very distinctive.

Another voice, one that sounded local, piped up. "Are you sure? Maybe you left it at home?"

Zoe eased their cabin door open and stepped in quietly. She stood at the entrance and watched the two girls talk back and forth. The first girl was tilting her head up at the ceiling, trying to remember if she did leave it at home.

It was a few minutes before the second girl noticed her at the door. "Oh! I didn't even hear you enter! Are you okay to take that last bed? I'm Felicity by the way."

Zoe gave her a small smile. "Yeah. I'm Zoe."

The first girl spun around, huffing to herself and threw her hands up in annoyance. "I _don't_ know now!"

Zoe lowered her bag onto the bed and sat down and just watched her rush about the room. Felicity rolled her eyes and laid on her stomach, with her pillow propped up underneath her. "Maybe try calling home?"

The second girl nodded and pulled out her phone from her back pocket and smiled at Zoe. "I'm Lottie. Yeah hi, dad? Can you check if my backpack is in my room?"

There was a pause before a voice talked to her from the other side. She groaned when she heard the response. "Are you kidding? Nah, it's okay, I'll let you know if I do. Thanks dad, love you."

Felicity pursed her lips to stop the grin from splitting her face. Lottie pointed a finger at her and frowned. "Don't even start."

Felicity laughed and stuffed her face into her pillow. "You left it at home didn't you? Classic, honestly Lott, why even bother?"

Zoe sat down and smiled at her roommate's antics. They seemed nice enough.

Felicity turned and placed her hands on her hips to face the other girls. "You guys ready to go down to the Mess Hall for dinner? Though, first we'll need to sit through Camp Leader Sharon's speech about unity and fun and staying out of trouble and shit like that. But the food isn't that bad for camp food."

Zoe shrugged; it seemed that both these girls had been on these camps before. "Sure."

* * *

 **Boring filler chapter to introduce the characters. I don't know where I'm going with this. Haha.**

 **Read and review,**  
 **-FlowerChild22**


	7. Apologies, 1998

**Sigh, these crazy kids always in denial.**

 **Enjoy lovelies :)**

 **Disclaimer:** All characters, plots, and familiar content are copyright of their respective owners and any reproduced content is only used for creative purposes.

* * *

"Dude, what's up with you?" Iggy prodded, dumping his second sachet of sugar into his coffee mug.

Fang watched as Iggy reached for a third packet. "You'll get diabetes. And nothing."

Iggy snorted and ripped open the sachet anyway, slowly pouring the white powder into his coffee. "Liar. You're like cranky as fuck and it's a real bummer."

Fang rolled his eyes but stayed silent.

"Maybe I can ask Max," Iggy commented. He twirled his spoon carefully with his right hand and then placed his left on his chin in thought. "You know, I haven't had a proper catch up with my sister for a while now."

He trailed off but Fang stayed stoic. He smirked to himself; there was no way Max would confess to her _brother_.

Iggy scowled, but then perked up instantly. Fang felt his shoulders tense.

"Maybe Nudge," Iggy suggested, looking away from Fang but sneaking a glance in his direction. He grinned when he noticed Fang's shoulders tense—he knew that if he looked under he table he'd see Fang's knee start to jump up and down.

Fang clenched his jaw and held up a hand. "Okay, fine."

Iggy smiled gleefully, leaning forward and cupping his mug in his hands. "Okay."

Fang took a deep breath and shifted his gaze away from Iggy. He felt uncomfortable—even more than in any social situation he had ever been in.

"Stop stalling man," Iggy huffed, lifting his cup to his mouth.

Fang cleared his throat. "We slept together."

"That is nasty," Iggy spat out, coughing loudly into his cup. Half the contents of his cup spilt onto the linoleum table. "Jesus, warn a guy before speaking those words yeah?"

Fang glared at Iggy. "You wanted to know."

"And I regret it," Iggy told him dramatically. He threw a handful of napkins onto the table, which they quickly stained brown from the coffee. He wiped his hands and the sides of his mug before taking another sip. "Normally, I would beg that we move on from this subject. But because you're my friend and you both are driving me insane with your irritableness, we can talk this out."

"No thanks," Fang told him, holding up a hand.

"Rather me than Nudge," Iggy pointed out. "She'll want to fix this, and I'm _sure_ you wouldn't want her to play counselor, despite her good intentions."

Fang couldn't help the scowl flicker across his face. "Fine."

Iggy leaned back and rested his hands in his lap. The image looked odd to Fang—Iggy did not suit serious. "So I'm guessing Max is avoiding the issue, cause y'know her and feelings. And obviously you wouldn't want to talk about it cause you've got the emotional capacity of a patch of moss."

Fang glared at Iggy, but Iggy wasn't disheartened. "I think you guys need to talk about it."

"We did," Fang answered, picking up his mug. "It's settled."

Iggy frowned at him. "Yelling at each other and living in denial is _not_ talking or settling."

Fang ignored him and turned his attention to the newspaper in front of him.

Iggy almost huffed out loud. "You guys ne—"

"We've talked, Iggy," Fang ground out. "It was just a drunken night. We agreed."

Iggy gave him a sad look, to which Fang ignored.

 ***.*.*.*.***

It had been two weeks since their fight and Max couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her stomach. She had never fought with Fang like that before. She didn't like not being able to meet her best friend for coffee or lunch.

She missed him.

It also wasn't helping that she had her conversation with Nudge stuck in her head taunting her. _So you're jealous._

 _I'm not._ She groaned and dropped her head onto her desk.

"Stupid Fang," she muttered to herself. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

She let herself wallow in self-pity before sitting up and taking a deep breath. She knew she looked crazy and her co-workers were giving her weird looks, but she ignored them. She was sure Becky, the office gossip, was whispering behind her back like the gossip she was.

 _Fuck_ _you Becky._

Max eyed the time in the corner of her computer screen. 5:06PM. She had Nudge's fashion event that night and she had stupidly agreed to not only attend, but promised her boss that she'd write a piece on the night.

 _What if Fang invites Brigid_? The thought made her frown again. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"No need to get yourself worked up Max," she muttered to herself.

She locked her computer, grabbed her handbag and leather jacket and tucked her chair into her cubicle desk. As she was leaving the office floor, Becky waved at her and sent a pitiful smile and Max just glared back at her.

 ***.*.*.*.***

Max worried the inside of her cheek while she waited in the lobby of Nudge's event. She ignored the scathing looks from the woman seated nearby reading a _Vogue_ magazine and continued the nervous tapping of her chunky heeled leather boots. She had spoken to Nudge earlier but she dashed off straightaway to schmooze with some important fashion people and so was left drinking her second glass of wine.

 _Probably best if I didn't have anymore after this_ , she thought to herself.

She felt her both her spine straighten defensively and her heart jump in her chest when she recognised the dark mess of hair that could only belong to Fang. She dumped her half finished wine glass on a tray held by a waiter passing by and wiped her palms on her cigarette trousers. As he turned in her direction, she quickly spun around and weaved through the mass of people.

She almost cringed at her antics. She knew Nudge would not have approved at all.

"I might wait a little later into the night," she told herself.

 ***.*.*.*.***

She spotted Fang standing alone around the edges of the room sometime around 10PM. She had long ago finished her interviews and networking, but couldn't bring herself to leave just yet. She had been working up the courage to talk to Fang the whole night and was glad to find that he hadn't left yet. She chewed the inside of her lip.

"Just talk to him," a voice told her from behind her shoulder.

"Ah!" She gasped, spinning on her heel and facing her brother. "You!"

"Hello sister dearest," Iggy gave her a shit-eating grin.

She smacked her hand hard against his arm. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Iggy rolled his eyes. "Just talk to him Max. He's just as mopey as you are."

Max crossed her arms and stuck her chin out. "I am _not_ mopey."

Iggy smiled at her. "Sure."

"I'm not," Max insisted.

Iggy held his hands up. "I didn't say anything."

Max glared at him. Iggy stepped towards her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. He spun her slowly and nudged her towards Fang—who luckily, had not noticed the siblings yet.

"Okay, I will!" Max stepped away from Iggy and dropped her hands. "Don't push me."

Iggy rolled his eyes and waved her away. "Well, go on."

Max ignored him and started her way towards Fang. Her steps faltered slightly when she neared him and she almost stopped straight in her tracks once he locked eyes with her.

She coughed into her hand and tried to give him a smile. She was sure it turned out as a grimace. "Hey."

His face gave nothing away, to her frustration. "Hey."

"Listen," Max began, unsure how to begin.

Fang waited patiently and kept his steady gaze on her.

She forced herself to keep eye contact and from running away. "I'm sorry."

Fang raised an eyebrow as Max lifted her gaze to the roof. "I—"

"It's okay," he interrupted. He knew that Max wasn't going to admit that she had any feelings—if she had any—or that she was jealous, and for now, that was enough for Fang.

Max's gaze snapped back to his and he shrugged.

Her mouth flicked up in a small smile. "I don't want to fight with you."

Fang's lips quirked up once. "Either."

* * *

 **Max, Max, Max. Fang, Fang, Fang. We love and hate them.**

 **Read and review,  
\- FlowerChild22**


End file.
